


Back of Beyond, Part I

by BeyondFandoms



Series: Moreid [8]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drugs, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Possible Character Death, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondFandoms/pseuds/BeyondFandoms
Summary: I'm sure you all remember "Revelations" (2x15)...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to JsPrincess and serier4ever for the prompts that led to this!

_Derek smiles at me across the table. "Sounds like a good idea, right?"_

_"Sure," I respond, "but we'll never be able to get_ real  _vacation time."_

_"Sure we will! We've both got at least two weeks of vacation time saved. I don't see why we can't take it."_

_"You know how work is. We'll have barely left before there's some emergency we're being called back for."_

_"They can't call us back if we don't take our phones with us." Derek gives me a sly grin. I can't help but smile back at him._

_"You know we can't do that. It'd be nice, but it's basically impossible to keep work from calling_ somehow _."_

_"Hey, if you'll agree to go with me, I can work out all the little details of gettin' us outta work for a couple weeks. So whaddya say, angelface?"_

_I smile and lean across the table to kiss him. "I'd be delighted to go."_

 

* * *

 

"I wanna go..." My voice is barely a whisper. Doesn't matter, I was just sleep-talking anyway. I hear a chuckle come from somewhere above me, but only see darkness when I look up. "Wha...?"

"Don't waste your time worrying over who  _I_ am,  _doctor_. You should be thinking about  _where_ and  _why_ , not  _who_ and  _what_."

"I'm currently puzzling over all four of those as well as  _how_ , thank you," I retort. "Since you're so generous with your supply of  _questions_ , would you mind much giving out some  _answers_?"

"All in due time," the voice says, though now it seems whoever's talking is level with me. I didn't hear anyone come in here — wherever  _here_ is — but it's not like I could truthfully say I'm a wealth of knowledge at the moment. At least, not a wealth of any  _useful_ knowledge.

"And when will that be?" I ask.

Silence. Then, from right by my ear: "I think you should go back to sleep now."

I feel a sharp pain in my arm, but it's barely registered before I'm out again.

 

* * *

  

 _"I can't believe you_ actually  _agreed to skip out on work for two whole weeks," JJ said with a laugh. "And here I thought you were responsible."_

 _"Oh like you wouldn't skip out if_ Emily _wanted some quality time with you."_

_Her face reddens. "H-How d'you know about that?!"_

_"_ Please _," I start with a laugh, "how could I_ not _? I know I'm kind of oblivious sometimes but no one's_ that  _oblivious."_

_"So I'm that obvious, huh?"_

_"Yeah, you aren't exactly a master of subtlety."_

_"Whatever. We were talking about_ you _anwyways. What does Morgan have planned for your little getaway?" She smirks._

_"I dunno. He says it's all a surprise."_

_"Oooh, surprises and Derek Morgan go together like dynamite and red wine."_

_"What does that even mean?"_

_"Nothing you won't find out soon enough," she says with a laugh._

 

* * *

  

"Tell me..." My voice trails off as I come into wakefulness again. There's a light on this time. A man sits in a chair across from me, but I can't see much of what he looks like for the bad (or is it good on his part?) lighting.

"You've gotta quit doing that. It's getting annoying," the man says. "Glad you're up, though. I was starting to get bored."

"What are you planning to do with me?" I ask. He laughs.

"That's a stupid question for a genius to be asking. Don't you know you'll have to find out the hard way?"

"Are you gonna answer  _any_ of my questions?"

"Technically, that  _was_ an answer,  _doctor_."

"I'm sure you know what I mean."

"That I do," he responds, then changes course. "Let's play a game."

"I don't see how I'm supposed to play a game when I'm all bound up," I say, pulling against the chains binding my hands and feet for emphasis.

"I assumed it would be obvious you wouldn't  _need_ the use of your appendages or extremeties for the game I have in mind."

I sigh in defeat. "What kind of game do you have in mind?"

"It's simple. You want to know about this situation you're in. If you do well, you'll know everything you want to. So pick a category: who, what, when, where, why, or how. Your choice will affect how this round of the game is played."

"I'll take  _who_ for five hundred." I chuckle softly at my own reference.

"This isn't  _Jeopardy_ , you dolt. And sadly, this round will have to be cut short."

"Why?"

"There's no way you can play the game with  _that_ category, so I'll just have to tell you straight up. The name's Charlie, Charlie Lancaster, and it's time for you to go back to sleep now."

 

* * *

 

_"Pack your bags, Pretty Boy, 'cos you and I are goin' on a little vacation," Derek says as he emerges from Hotch's office. I give him a huge smile._

_"You mean you_ actually _got Hotch to give us two uninterrupted weeks off?"_

 _"Well, he can't exactly_ stop _us from usin' our vacation time. And as I recall, the whole team had to basically_ beg _Rossi to use his — so why would they wanna keep us from takin' ours?"_

_"I can't believe we're really doing this," I say with a light laugh. Derek smiles and kisses my forehead._

_"Believe it, angel, 'cos it's happenin'."_

 

* * *

  

I'm laughing softly when I next wake up. The lighting's the same as last time, and Charlie sits in his chair before me with his head cocked.

"You weren't out as long this time," he says, and searches around in a container on the floor next to him. "Maybe I should use a stronger dose next time..."

"Dose of what?" I ask. Charlie seems to perk up at that.

"Ah, so you're ready for round two of our little game! Seems you've chosen  _what_ as your category this round. Now that we've got a real playing category, let me ask you a quick pre-game question: Wood, metal, or electricity?"

"Wood...?" I'm not sure where he's going with this, and I'm not really sure I want to find out. What I  _am_ sure of, however, is that I'm going to find out soon.

"A disappointing choice, but I'll respect it nonetheless," he says as he pulls out what appears to be a two-by-four. "All right, let's get started!"

"Am I gonna get the rules of this game?"

"It's like Twenty Questions except it's not very much like Twenty Questions."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You get twenty questions each round. Choose them wisely. Those choices will also affect how the game is played."

"Fine. Question one: What do you keep injecting me with?"

"You have five guesses," Charlie says with a smirk, hitting the two-by-four against the palm of his hand as he waits for my response.

"Huh?"

"Mmmh, I'm afraid 'huh' isn't the right answer." He swings the two-by-four and hits me hard in the side. "You have four more guesses."

"So I'm supposed to ask you a question and then  _guess_ the answer?" He raises the two-by-four again. "Wait, wait — that's not my guess! Uh, uhm, uh... Is it– is it codeine?"

"Terribly sorry, but that's not the right answer, either." Charlie brings the board down hard on my groin and I can't help but cry out in pain. He laughs. "You have three more guesses."

I think hard for a moment. I don't really fancy being beaten with wood, so I kind of need to make my answers count. Oddly enough, this experience brings back memories from my time with Tobias Hankle. Hankle would inject me with Dilaudid every time he beat me and felt bad about it. Wait a minute... "Is it Dilaudid?"

Charlie grins. "About time you got something right. Next question."

An uneasy feeling gnaws at me and I say, "I don't think I want to play anymore."

"Fair enough," Charlie says. He raises the two-by-four and swings at my head. "Lights out."

 

* * *

 

_Memories flash by in quick succession: Tobias beating me and trying to make me confess; Tobias making me choose who to save from a screenful of people; Tobias making me decide who to kill on my team; Tobias injecting me with Dilaudid over and over again; Tobias making me dig my own grave. The memories come unbidden and I can't make any of them go away. I'd make myself wake up, but it's like the universe has decided now is the perfect time to relive everything in vivid detail._

 

* * *

  

When I wake up, I can feel tears rolling slowly down my face, along with blood from where Charlie hit me. He sits before me now, in his usual position. I mentally curse myself for showing weakness in front of him.

"Well, well, well," he begins with a dark chuckle, "look who's decided to come back to the world of the living."

"Not by choice," I spit back.

"Now, now, sass isn't a nice look on you. I'd recommend removing it before we continue to round three of our little game."

The game feels anything but little now. He'll kill me in the end; the only real question is to why he hasn't done it yet. I have to save  _why_ for later, though. A profiler needs to find all the details they can before attempting to deliver a profile, after all.

"How," I say. I honestly can't remember how I got in to this situation. That probably has something to do with the fact that Charlie keeps beating and drugging me.

"A fine choice. My turn: Metal or electricity?"

I'm in no rush to be electrocuted in any way. "Metal."

"Steel or lead?"

I have no idea what to expect now, but there's no way it could be good. I take a gamble. "Steel...?"

Charlie chuckles. "This will be fun." I'm sure I've made the wrong choice. I'm even more sure when he pulls out a razor-sharp six-inch steel knife and turns it over in his hands, grinning wickedly as light reflects off its sleek surface. "Question two, ask away."

"How did I get here?"

"Hmmm... I'll give you six guesses, just because the thought of what I'm gonna do to you with this knife is  _thrilling_."

I gulp nervously. "Something went wrong on one of my team's missions."

" _So_ sorry,  _doctor_. That's not quite the answer I'm looking for." Charlie takes my arm and quckly slices a diagonal line across it.

"That won't kill me," I observe quietly. Charlie gives a sharp, barking laugh.

"Of course it won't  _kill_ you! Why would I kill you before we've finished playing our game?"

"I thought the question for this round was  _how_ , not  _why_ ," I say under my breath. I immediately regret it as Charlie stabs me quickly in the side.

"I told you to drop that attitude. Next guess; you have five more."

"You kidnapped me," I wheeze. You'll find it's kind of hard to talk when you've just been stabbed.

Charlie taps the bloody blade against his lips, feigning thoughtfulness. "I suppose you're technically right. Next question."

"How did you... get all these... these weapons and... and this space...?"

"Finding it hard to speak? I'll cut you some slack — get it,  _cut_? — and take things easy on you; three guesses."

"Stealing...?"

"Nope!" Another swift diagonal cut.

"Killed someone...?"

"Nuh-uh." A sharp slice near my stomach. Everything seems fuzzy now...

"...I don't... think... I can... I can't... I can't play... anym... anymore..."

Charlie chuckles and I hear his chair scrape back across the floor. "Lights out,  _doctor_."

 

* * *

 

_There is no dreaming. There's nothing here at all. Maybe it's over. Please, just let it be over..._

 

* * *

 

I'm alone when I wake up. There are bandages over all the wounds Charlie made with the knife. It appears he must have at least basic medical knowledge. I'm not sure why he hasn't just killed me already. I wish he would. I don't know what purpose his "game" is supposed to serve, other than pure torture. Frankly, I don't care anymore. I don't care where I am, or why. I don't care if no one ever comes to save me. I don't care if no one's even looking for me. I don't care if someone  _is_ looking for me and they find me dead. In fact, I'd rather be found dead than go through any more of this.

I close my eyes and try to take deep breaths. It's time to end this. "Come here and face me already! I know you're just  _dying_ to continue this beloved  _game_ of yours."

Charlie laughs and emerges from the shadows. "It appears you're the only one who's  _dying_ ,  _doctor_. But if you wish to continue the game, then your wish is my command. Pick your–"

"I don't want to play your stupid game anymore! I'm done with all of this!"

"Are you saying you'd like to play the final round?" he asks, head cocked to one side.

"If that's what'll end this, then fine!"

"Very well. Charlie rummages in his container for a moment. Satisfied with whatever he's found, he closes the container and pulls his chair right next to me. He waves a pistol in my face, silently showing me what he's gotten from the container. I watch as he loads one bullet into the chamber and spins it into place. "I'm sure you know how Roulette works. This time,  _I'll_ give  _you_ the question,  _doctor_. Got it?"

I nod. "Good," Charlie says. "Here's your metaphorical million-dollar question: Why am I doing all this?"

Damn, the one thing I never figured out. "I dunno."

_Click._

"W-Why not?"

_Click._

"B-Because you w-want to?"

_Click._

Panic. Panic and pure terror. "I– Because– Because you're fucked up and you just feel like you have to?!"

_Bang._

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this actually came from a kinda-sad video game by one of my fave devs. (Kudos if you can find the name of the game and the dev!)
> 
> Also, be sure to look out for part two!


End file.
